In early April, the U.S. destroyer Donald Cook had been cruising 70 nautical miles from Kaliningrad during NATO exercises in the Baltic Sea when it was ‘buzzed’ down by two Russian Su-24 fighter planes. The Americans protested; the Russians complained of the ship’s “operational proximity to the Russian navy's Baltic fleet base.” Or, in plain language, they weren’t happy that NATO had appeared on its doorstep.

Kaliningrad, home to Russia’s Baltic fleet, has long been the redoubt of the country’s military force. In the Soviet era much of the territory was closed to foreigners. Today, reports claim the area has been remilitarized and equipped with some of Russia’s most sophisticated weapon systems. The fear is that tensions between NATO forces and Russian military in the area could trigger a full-blown conflict with the West.

Yet when you walk the streets of the regional capital or stroll along its Baltic shore beaches, the atmosphere seems calm. Residents appear more perturbed by the weak Russian rouble and their lower spending power outside the country than the possibility of military clashes. On any given evening, you’re more likely to see groups of men fishing for amber than military vessels.

But there are reasons for concern. In early April, the region saw its status as a special economic zone — which had encouraged the likes of BMW to build factories in the region and had given it an advantageous entry into Russia’s vast consumer market — revoked by the state assembly.

Kaliningrad’s future is uncertain. The ambiguity mirrors its nagging uneasiness the past — Kaliningrad’s Prussian roots are still a tangible presence in the region’s cityscapes and culture — as the region struggles between its role as a bridge between East and West, and also a point of likely confrontation.

Two amber fishermen, who use nets to catch large pieces of amber, walking the beach at Svetlogorsk.